


Knight in Shining Armor

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Childhood Friends, Chivalry, Courtly Love, Death, F/M, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Loss, Lost Love, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: The story of Alan and Lianne's forbidden love.





	Knight in Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Peculiar Pairings Bingo event at Goldenlake.

Knight in Shining Armor

Truth or Dare

“Truth or dare?” Lianne squinted at Alan through the glare reflected off Pirate Swoop’s beach. 

Shifting into a more comfortable position on the blanket Maude had spread for them, Alan didn’t answer, pretending not to hear her over the squealing and splashing Aly and Vania made as they engaged in a water fight amongst the shallow waves destined to smash against the shore. 

“You have to pick one,” Lianne reminded him when he had been quiet for too long, “or else our game is over.” 

“Dare.” Alan was emboldened by the salt in the breeze rippling through his hair. 

The glint in Lianne’s brown eyes that told him he had chosen as she had hoped was all the warning he got before she trilled, “Then I dare you to kiss me.” 

Alan gaped at her like a dead fish swept onto the beach by a wave. She took advantage of his astonishment to rise and run across the sand, darting around Liam and Jasson as they competed to see who could build the tallest sand castle, and leaving only footprints and laughter in her wake. 

He chased after her—narrowly avoiding the accidental demolishment of Liam’s castle that would have earned him a vicious punch in the stomach if he was lucky and a bloody nose if he wasn’t. When he finally caught her, hand wrapping around her thin wrist, he was gasping too hard to kiss her. 

“You’ve caught me.” Lianne giggled with the thrill of the chase, and Alan wondered where she had found the breath for that. “Now you have to kiss me.” 

Alan kissed her cheek quickly, desperate to be done with the dare, and was surprised by how the warmth of her skin baked by the sun seemed to sink into his lips. 

Star-Crossed Constellation

“That’s the constellation of star-crossed lovers.” Lianne’s finger traced an outline of the constellation in the dark dome of the sky above her and Alan. Her head curled into the groove between Alan’s shoulder and neck as they sat on a stone bench in the maze of Eldorne’s gardens during the Great Progress that would introduce the realm to Roald’s betrothed. 

“The constellation of star-crossed lovers?” repeated Alan, curious which court lady had planted such nonsense into Lianne’s romantic imagination. 

“That’s what the K’mir call it,” murmured Lianne, finger dropping to trail along the crest that marked him as Lord Imrah’s page. “Buri told me. She said that once upon a time—so long ago nobody knows when it happened—there was a beautiful chieftain’s daughter who fell in love with the strong warrior son of rival tribe’s chief. They tried to escape into the highlands together and begin their own tribe, but her father found and killed them both. Now they sparkle in the skyway, above the hatred of mortals, where they can always be together.” 

“That’s a tragic story.” Alan stared up at the distant stars she had pointed out, seeing only sorrow where he had once beheld beauty. 

“It’s called the constellation of star-crossed lovers for a reason.” Lianne’s eyes were shiny stars promising nothing but heartbreak as she gazed at him in the maze of Eldorne’s gardens. 

Dandelion Wishes 

“This smells sweet.” Lianne plucked and pressed to her nose a daffodil from the field beside the babbling brook where they were supposed to be washing supper dishes as the sun set copper behind them. Her group of Riders had joined the Own that afternoon to plot the capture of a brigand of bandits. Her leader was in Lord Raoul’s tent right now, hatching ambush plans with the officers of the Own. “Unlike some people I could name who smell like horse.” 

“Are you going to name yourself?” Alan scrubbed at a stew pot with vigor, thinking that she smelled more like horse than daffodil, but he didn’t mind since he loved horses more than flowers. 

“Don’t distract me with your teasing.” Lianne flung the daffodil into the brook where it floated until the current carried it away and then scooped up a dandelion. “I have to make a wish.” 

Alan stopped scrubbing to watch her scrunch up her nose and eyes to blow on the dandelion, scattering dusty puffs that tickled Alan’s throat and nostrils into the air. 

“What did you wish?” Alan’s gaze followed the falling dandelion tufts as they disappeared into the spring grass. “Can I make it come true?” 

“You can.” Lianne crouched beside him, their shadows swimming in the stream. “I wished you would kiss me.” 

“I’d be happy to make that wish come true.” Not needing any more encouragement from her, Alan brushed his mouth across hers, marveling at how her lips were soft and sweet as daffodil petals. 

Champion

“Lianne, I’m a knight now.” Alan felt overcome with the chivalry that had flooded him earlier this Midwinter night as he knelt before King Jonathan to rise a knight of the realm. “I could be your champion as my mother is your father’s.” 

Lianne considered this as she danced under the bridge of his arm before commenting almost dreamily, “Kings have knights, but princesses have knights in shining armor.” 

“Could I be your knight in shining armor?” Alan drew her close to his chest, wondering if she could hear his heart thudding with passion for her. 

“Maybe one day.” Lianne grinned at him with teeth whiter than clouds. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor now, but when I do, I shall be sure to call upon your service.” 

“It would be an honor to serve when called.” Alan bowed to her as the song ended, and they parted before rumors about their relationship being more than a childhood friendship could ignite like blazebalm. 

Knight in Shining Armor 

“Papa arranged for me to marry Prince Rurik, heir of Maren.” Lianne’s words washed over Alan like a bucket of ice cold water, freezing his heart. “I thought you ought to hear the news from me before Papa announced the engagement in front of the entire court.” 

“I should have known.” Alan buried his face in his trembling hands so she wouldn’t see when the shock faded enough for him to cry. “Prince Rurik arrived at court weeks ago…” 

“And Papa ensured that he was introduced to me many times,” Lianne finished, tone brittle as a broken heart. “I should have realized what Papa was plotting then, but he gave Kally some choice in her marriage, so, silly me, I assumed that I would have the same privilege. When I asked Papa about that, he just said that I was so sweet and obedient it never occurred to him I would refuse to wed anyone he picked out for me, but I know he meant Kally was always his favorite, and he could never bear it if she was unhappy.” 

Alan had never heard such a bitter torrent spill from Lianne. He could only stutter, not knowing what answer he wanted, “Will you refuse to marry the prince your father chose for you?” 

“No.” Lianne’s voice was tight as a clenched fist. “I’d provoke war with Maren if I insulted their heir by rejecting his hand in marriage. I won’t let thousands of innocent Tortallans die for the sake of my happiness. I’ll do my duty and submit to the marriage Papa arranged for me.” 

“Will you be lonely in Maren?” Alan knew he was truly asking how she could live without him and hated how pathetic, how forlorn, he sounded. 

“Papa says a Minchi girl a few years older than me married into a family of Maren nobility not too long ago, so I’ll have company at the court in Maren.” Something in Lianne’s tone made Alan lift his face from his hands as she went on, “I convinced Papa to persuade Prince Rurik that a dear childhood friend of mine should be allowed to accompany me to Maren.” 

“Which childhood friend?” Alan, breathless, was torn between impossible hope and unfathomable despair. 

“You.” Lianne stretched her fingers toward his face. “Will you be my knight in shining armor in Maren, Alan?” 

“I would be your knight in shining armor anywhere.” Alan drew her fingers to his lips for a kiss that would have been chaste as chivalry demanded if not for the denied desire burned into it. 

Spice and Bright Colors

“That orange is bright enough to hurt my eyes.” Alan’s gaze swept over the vibrant colors of Lianne’s dress, noting inwardly that he would never adjust to the brilliant hues regarded as the pinnacle of fashion in Maren no matter how much Lianne had come to embrace wearing them. 

“Let that be a punishment to you for daring to look at a princess with lust in your eyes, sir knight.” Lianne popped a spiced, crisped chickpea into her mouth and bit into it with a crunch. They were in her solar, she had dismissed her servants and attendant ladies, and her husband was leagues away monitoring nobles her father-in-law suspected of treason, or neither of them would have risked speaking so. 

“You look gorgeous in that dress despite the blinding color.” Alan kissed her neck then nudged the sleeves away from her shoulder. “I think you would look even more gorgeous without it, though.” 

“We shouldn’t do this.” Lianne’s lips tasted of spice and danger as his mouth brushed across hers. “My husband will have both of our heads rotting on spikes if he discovers our affair.” 

“An excellent reason for not letting him discover our affair.” Alan unbuttoned the back of her dress until it fell past her waist and onto the floor. “We’ll have to keep our love a secret, forbidden pleasure.” 

Pregnant Expectations

When Lianne told him she was pregnant on the ramparts of Prince Rurik’s castle, Alan felt weak-kneed at the memory of how she had muffled her moans into goose-down feathers and how they had lain together in a tangle of stained silk blankets. They hadn’t been able to use an anti-pregnancy charm. It would have looked too suspicious if Lianne were caught with one when her duty was to conceive an heir for her husband. 

“Have you”—Alan choked as if a noose were knotted around his neck—“thought about what excuse you’ll offer if the baby resembles me?” 

“I don’t need an excuse.” Lianne gave an impatient shake of her coal black hair. “My husband’s hair and eyes aren’t such different shades from yours, are they?” 

“I suppose they aren’t.” Alan shuffled his feet, discomfited that he hadn’t noticed such similarities between him and Prince Rurik until Lianne pointed them out. 

“Nobody will ever be able to know if the child is yours.” Lianne stared out over the vast expanse of fertile fields that seemed to span to the Tortallan border. “Not me, not you, and certainly not my husband.” 

Lost Love

Alan couldn’t be beside Lianne when she died in a bed of blood not long after bringing a baby boy with the jet black hair of the Contes into the world. Instead it was Prince Rurik who held onto her hand as she bled out on the bedsheets, and it was him who told Alan she had named the boy after him—her knight in shining armor—with her last breath. 

Alan didn’t explain that he had heard through the thick wooden door that separated them her calling out his name. He didn’t reveal that she hadn’t been naming her son but crying out for the man she loved as life left her. 

He kept that knowledge secret as their forbidden love and didn’t remain in Maren to be tempted to indulge her son in a manner that might stir doubt in the lad’s legitimacy. Instead he returned to the Tortallan court where his mother greeted him with narrowed, suspicious amethyst eyes. 

“I heard the late Princess Lianne named her son in your honor.” Ma’s hands dug into her hips as they had when Alan was a mischievous boy who fled his tutor’s lessons. “Not after her husband but after you. Why would she have done that?” 

“Because I was her knight in shining armor.” Alan wouldn’t flinch from admitting the truth of his love for Lianne now that she was dead and he was back in Tortall. “Because she loved me more than she ever did Prince Rurik.” 

“The king wishes to speak with you.” Ma’s lips were thin as the sword she wielded so deftly. “He’s in the crypts.” 

Alan descended the stone stairwell into the eternally cold Conte crypts, where he found King Jonathan hunched over the tomb of another long dead Lianne. 

“My mother died too young.” King Jonathan leaned back from the grave, and Alan saw that he had left a bouquet of fresh lilies on the tomb. “When I named my daughter after her, I never dreamed that my daughter would lead an even shorter life.” 

Alan clenched his jaw, afraid all his blame for the man who had arranged Lianne’s marriage that had ended in such grief would come streaming out of him if he didn’t dam it at the source. 

“You loved her.” King Jonathan’s eyes were watery and red-rimmed as they fixed on Alan. “She loved you enough to name her son after you. You must have made her very happy.” 

“I did.” Alan would keep his unsaid accusation that the king hadn’t made Lianne happy and that was why she was dead in his heart forever. He would mourn Lianne in love, not resentment. “At least I tried.” 

“That’s all a father can ask of a man who loves his daughter.” King Jonathan’s hand squeezed Alan’s shoulder too tightly, and Alan understood how desperate the king must be to cling onto anyone or anything in his sorrow. “If I had realized she loved you sooner, I might have let her marry you, but I didn’t know she loved you until after I had arranged her marriage to Prince Rurik.” 

“Thinking about what might have been is no comfort to anyone, sire.” Alan blinked away the tears that scorched his eyes. “It only makes the pain worse.” 

“We’ll mourn Lianne together.” King Jonathan patted Alan’s shoulder. “Perhaps we can be a comfort to each other.”


End file.
